


tether

by honeybakedtea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybakedtea/pseuds/honeybakedtea
Summary: Dimitri, Felix, and scores of Kingdom soldiers ride out to what later becomes known as the Western Rebellion in 1178. When the battle is concluded, Dimitri retreats to his tent alone. It is there that Felix throws down his dagger—the one sculpted with brilliant, Blaiddyd blue—at Dimitri’s feet, and declares his intention to break their soulbond as soon as he is able.It is Felix's eighteenth birthday. Dimitri wonders whether Felix will decide to cut the last of what ties them together, once and for all.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 9
Kudos: 85
Collections: 2020 Dimilix Exchange





	tether

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kthsbot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kthsbot/gifts).



> happy holidays, Aisha! here's my gift fic for you, based on your prompt: _At the age of 18, you’re given one day to change your soulmate. Dimitri is terrified that Felix will change him._ I had a lot of fun thinking up & messing about with dmfx's childhood history with this one, especially since they're already so close as kids. i imagine that being soulmates would've made them ecstatic (before the western rebellion, at least.) i hope you enjoy it!

Dimitri wakes on the twentieth of the Pegasus Moon with a pang of irritation. This is not unusual, until the feeling is quickly replaced by fondness. Then it _does_ become unusual, leaving Dimitri to wonder whether Felix woke to something pleasant today.

A gift, perhaps. It seems the most likely option; it _is_ Felix’s birthday, and despite his claims otherwise, Felix does have friends. Friends who care for him immensely, going to the lengths to throw him a little birthday gathering in the afternoon, without his knowledge.

Felix will probably hate it. Dimitri knows that there is nothing he despises more than the attention of a crowded room, but since Annette is the ringleader of this little scheme, perhaps he will let it slide this time.

Slowly, Dimitri sits up in bed. He reaches over to the bedside drawer, and downs the glass of water sitting there in one gulp. He also tries to ignore the remnants of tonight’s nightmare, which happens with less success.

His own present for Felix is on his desk. Dimitri is eyeing it when he feels another flare of irritation burn hot and quick in his chest. 

Briefly, Dimitri wonders what is causing Felix’s annoyance this time, before he sighs and moves to rise from the bed. There is little point dwelling on it, because Dimitri is unlikely to pry the answer from Felix himself, anyway.

He supposes he should enjoy the sensation of sharing Felix’s emotions while he can. After all, at the end of today, he won’t be feeling Felix’s thoughts for a long time.

* * *

During his seventh summer, when he is bored and wandering, Dimitri finds a book in the library. It is big and dusty, the sort of thing he’d usually never touch because there are no pictures and the text itself reminds him too much of his lessons with his tutors. The only reason he gets a hold of it is because it somehow fell out of a shelf while he was looking around the place. (Definitely not because he accidentally knocked into that shelf, or anything, and had to clean up the other books that fell too, in perpetual fear of the old librarian chasing him out.)

The contents of the old book become clear when Dimitri peers closely at the cover. There are two smiling figures there, their hearts connected with a cobalt-blue line. Soulmates.

Dimitri makes a face. _Soulmates._ He still doesn’t really know what to make of the idea. Ingrid stares out of the window with a dreamy look whenever the topic is brought up. Sylvain refuses to talk about it.

Everything is all well and good until the librarian finally finds Dimitri poring over the book, surrounded by other fallen parchments and one single, slightly-bent quill. And one inkwell on the floor, maybe, but Dimitri hadn’t _tipped it over,_ at least…

_“Your Highness!”_

True to his fears, Dimitri is chased out. With a _walking stick,_ of all things.

He escapes to his bedroom, even though Gaius is an old man with weak knees who couldn’t possibly make it very far past the library door. Dimitri is breathing heavily, with the combined fright and giddiness of the sort only very little children can muster. His father finds him later and laughs at how silly his nose looks, splodged with ink, before swinging him off to the maids in an underarm carry.

It is memories like these that remind Dimitri of how much he misses his father. His laugh, especially, because he only remembers it in snatches, now, like gusts of the wind. Something Dimitri can never quite catch. 

At any rate, his father ends up depositing him with the maids, who decide that, along with rubbing his face raw, Dimitri is also due for a haircut. The maid who usually cuts Dimitri’s hair is sick, so another one is brought in to do it for him. She is younger and bubblier, chatting away while she works. Dimitri prefers her, to be honest—his usual hairdresser tugs too hard at his hair, and has him patting his head gingerly and wincing for the rest of the day.

“Aw, Your Highness,” Helena whistles, towelling his hair off and combing the wet locks through, “why do you look so glum?”

Dimitri startles. The wet ends of his hair flick his face.

“Glum?” he asks, mystified.

“You look troubled,” she clarifies, dabbing at the water droplets on his cheek.

He shakes his head. “No, it’s nothing.”

“... Of course,” is all she says to that, with a knowing look and a grin.

Dimitri can’t help himself, then. He has to tell _someone,_ and since none of his friends are here…

“I was reading a book,” he blurts, hesitating only when his vision goes dark as she drops the towel over his eyes. “About soulmates.”

“Ah,” she says, smiling a little softer. “What did you think?”

Dimitri scuffs the floor with his shoes. “I don’t know,” he admits. He thinks back to Sylvain and his feelings on this topic, as he is wont to do. “It seems a bit—”

He stops, and purses his lips. “...silly.”

Helena laughs, clear and bright. Somehow, Dimitri immediately feels both much better and a little embarrassed when he hears it.

“You’re right. It _is_ a bit silly,” she agrees. She smooths back his hair, and tucks his fringe to the side. “It works for some people, but it turns out terrible for others. I know many who hate the feeling of being tied down to someone else so early.”

“Mm…” Dimitri mumbles. He pulls a face. Now that he thinks about it, the idea seems much less appealing. His soulmate might be nice, but they also might be a total stranger. Someone horrid. Someone he keeps arguing with, or who hates him, or— 

“But,” Helena says cheerily, interrupting him, “sometimes, it also works out.” She whistles. “Sometimes, anyway. They say the Goddess works in mysterious ways. This might just be one of them.”

Dimitri ponders on that for a while, as Helena straightens his hair.

“Besides,” Helena continues. “If you don’t like them—and I mean really, _truly_ hate them—you could always sever the bond.”

Dimitri inhales sharply. “You can do that?”

“Yes,” she says grimly, before catching sight of his face in the mirror. She stops combing. “...Ah. You didn’t know?”

Dimitri shakes his head. He had no idea.

“... Well, don’t go making any rash decisions,” Helena settles on. Her smile seems a bit strained, now. “You never know what the future holds, after all. It’s always best to stick things out a little while before you give up on a person.”

She hums, before she slowly starts to slice through the tips of his hair. Dimitri’s stepmother explained to him that the trimming was to help his hair grow again, while keeping it healthy and undamaged. It’s soothing, and he soon feels his eyes begin to close.

As Helena works, he wonders what it would be like to have a soulmate. The idea seems distant and farfetched, but he thinks that it would be nice if he and his soulmate were friends.

Helena’s voice, faintly apologetic, pulls him out of his dozing. “... Hmm. I don’t think—oh dear.” She coughs, and puts the scissors down. “Goodness. My apologies, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to cut this high…” 

  
  
  


After the haircut incident, Dimitri goes to the training grounds for some light training. Helena was scolded far too much in his opinion. Yes, his new haircut looks a bit— _funny,_ but it’s not so bad, is it?

Glenn bursts out laughing as soon as he sees him.

_“Glenn!”_

Dimitri purses his lip. It begins to wobble, dangerously. Felix is staring up at his brother with wide eyes, and Dimitri is trying very hard not to cry in front of the both of them, because Glenn is still laughing at him, hunched over and fist covering his mouth, though it does nothing to stifle his giggles.

“Your Highness,” he gasps out. His eyes are shining, and with a sinking feeling, Dimitri realises that Glenn is _crying._ It makes him feel like crying, too. “What did they _do_ to you?”

Dimitri’s hands ball into fists. “It’s not that bad,” he argues, weakly. “Don’t be mean!”

“Did they take a bowl to your head? How—how do you even—”

Glenn stops, again. Now, he starts _guffawing,_ leaning against the pillar for support, and Dimitri can’t help it. Glenn, laughing at him, thinking he looks funny. Thinking he looks _ugly._

Dimitri turns on his heel and flees to his bedroom, ignoring Glenn’s calls and Felix’s shouts. When he gets there, he has to scrub at his eyes to get the wetness out. He’s still doing this when Felix barrels through his doorway, out of breath.

“He didn’t mean it,” Felix says desperately, rushing over and clasping Dimitri’s hands between his own small mittened ones. His eyes widen when he sees how red Dimitri’s eyes are. Dimitri feels faintly embarrassed. Mostly humiliated. “I promise he didn’t mean it. I told him off after.”

_‘Told him off’_ meaning that Glenn probably laughed right back at Felix’s face, but Dimitri appreciates Felix’s attempt at cheering him up anyway. He wipes his eyes.

“It’s ok, Felix,” Dimitri says. It comes out _glum,_ just like Helena was saying before. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You don’t look ugly,” Felix insists. "If you looked ugly, I'd tell you."

Dimitri laughs at that. “Thanks," he says. "I'm really okay, though. I'll just have to wait for my hair to grow again, I guess..." 

Felix frowns. He stares at Dimitri, before his eyes flicker to his shorn hair, which only makes Dimitri’s face flush with humiliation again.

Then, Felix scrunches up his face. 

“I can get the same haircut as you," he says.

Dimitri stares. "What?" 

"I can get the same. So we match," Felix explains, voice rising in excitement. “So you don't—so you're not alone.” He grins, showing the gap where his tooth had recently fallen out. "Then at least Glenn can make fun of both of us together, so you won't feel as bad.”

For a while, Dimitri is struck dumb. "You'd do that?" And then, “Wait, Felix, you don’t have to! It’s okay, I promise—”

But Felix is already rising, and pulling Dimitri towards the door. “It’s _fine,_ I said,” he repeats. “We can match. I _want_ to match!”

Dimitri knows he’s only saying that to make him feel better. Surely no one wants to look like Dimitri does right now. And Felix must know that Glenn will tease him double for it when the two of them are alone, back in Fraldarius.

It doesn’t prevent the warmth from creeping up his chest. Dimitri realises, then, that he’s very lucky to have Felix as a best friend. 

Even when Felix pulls them towards Helena again, who shakes her head and proclaims that she’s _had enough of a telling-off today, thank you very much!_ and they have to beg another maid and Felix has to use his cute face to get her to cut his hair. Even when Felix emerges from the room with an identical cut, his gap-toothed smile on display for all to see. Glenn has a field day with it; Rodrigue tiredly presses his palms to his forehead; and Dimitri’s father has to stifle his laughter behind a cup.

It makes Dimitri happy, being with Felix and the rest of his loved ones like this. He laughs and smiles along, and later at night he hopes that, whoever his soulmate is, they’ll make him feel the same way.

* * *

On his eighth birthday, Dimitri finds out that his soulmate is Felix himself. 

Felix is delighted with this. He drags Dimitri out to the courtyard when they hear the news, and makes them practice lance forms until their hands are red and stinging.

Dimitri is simply relieved. He was terrified that it would be someone he hated. This also means that he doesn’t need to go about making any ‘rash decisions’, like Helena was warning him about.

Everything is well. Dimitri sends a prayer of thanks to the Goddess for it.

* * *

Five years later, Helena is dead. She is slaughtered at Duscur while trying to shield Dimitri, right after Glenn and his father and countless more of his friends attempted and succeeded in doing the same. The price for all of them was their lives, yet Dimitri is the one who survives it all, against his deepest and darkest wishes.

Dimitri returns to Fhirdiad an orphan. He becomes more reserved, a shell of himself as he attempts to maintain the crumbling image he has on display for his people and the court. Dedue helps him in this regard, although Dimitri is constantly aware that, had he been stronger, Dedue would not have to be here in the first place.

In some respects, Felix handles Duscur in completely the opposite way. He discards his old image as easily as throwing down a gauntlet. He becomes bitter and temperamental, and refuses to pick up a lance, taking to the sword instead. His relationship with Rodrigue sours, Dimitri hears. He wishes it were not the case, because Rodrigue is helping him immeasurably, although there is never much he can do to stave off the ghosts.

With Dimitri, however, Felix is still kind. He is rougher around the edges and quicker to voice his mind, but he still holds warmth for Dimitri, like the flame of a candle. Overprotective, sometimes, in that strange way of his, but it is a nice feeling, to be cared for in a way Dimitri knows without doubt is genuine. 

It’s soothing that Felix is here, at least. His soulmate. In the wake of everything he has lost, he still has Felix.

A nice comfort, indeed. Dimitri only wishes it was strong enough to quieten the voices in his ear.

* * *

Dimitri, Felix, and scores of Kingdom soldiers ride out to what later becomes known as the Western Rebellion in 1178. When the battle is concluded, Dimitri retreats to his tent alone. It is there that Felix throws down his dagger—the one sculpted with brilliant, Blaiddyd blue—at Dimitri’s feet, and declares his intention to break their soulbond as soon as he is able.

* * *

It is strange, then, that Dimitri can still feel what Felix is feeling.

Irritation. A pang of regret, followed by a desire to placate. Then irritation again, until his feelings fizzle out to something softer.

If Dimitri were to hazard a guess, he would say that Felix is being given a gift. Refusing it, before panicking and attempting to comfort whoever went to the lengths of buying him such a gift, in the Felix-way of his.

But Dimitri can still _feel_ it. Even though Felix told him that the minute he was able to, he would sever their bond forever. There would be nothing more to tie the two of them together—nothing apart from a lifetime and legacy of devotion between their houses. A legacy Felix intends to end with him, despite Dimitri’s pleas.

Dimitri has come to terms with the prospect now. He came to terms with it only after his father had helped him see reason, and after his stepmother reminded him of the importance of his true goal.

The thought of that makes this all the more confusing. Felix has reached his eighteenth year— the only year where one can, if the scriptures are to be believed, sever their soulbond. Sylvain refused to waste a single moment and severed his own the moment he could. He had suffered terribly from the Margrave’s wrath afterwards, Dimitri had heard, although he swore Sylvain had never looked happier from that day on.

But Felix… there is nothing stopping Felix. And yet…

Dimitri shakes his head. He steps out of his doorway, intending to attend his morning prayers before delivering Felix his gift—because even if he has stopped believing in the meaning behind those prayers, he has to put on an appearance as house leader. And conveniently—or perhaps it is just his bad luck—he spies Felix attempting to head into his room at the same time, clutching a wrapped gift of some sort in his bare hands.

Dimitri blinks, before sprinting to the door in a rush of sudden exhilaration. He doesn’t make it in time before it shuts, and has to knock twice before he receives a response.

“What,” Felix says, muffled from the other side.

“Felix. It’s me.” 

Dimitri winces at how small his voice sounds. He clears his throat, and is relieved when it comes out clearer. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

There is silence on the other side. Then: 

“Fine.”

Well, that is a start. Felix is responding, at least. Always a good sign when he does. 

“I have a gift for you,” Dimitri says. “If you would accept it.”

Felix doesn’t miss a beat. “No.”

Dimitri sighs. He ruffles a hand through his hair, the familiar headache beginning to pound behind his eyes. “Felix, please. I think you would like it.” He pauses. “I understand if you do not wish to associate with me, but at least accept the gift.”

Silence.

“There is no need to think of it as a gift, either. You may accept it as merely a practical item, if you wish.”

Silence. 

After two minutes of waiting, the door swings open. 

“Get in,” Felix snaps. He makes sure to leave the door wide open, as Dimitri makes his way inside his room. “You look disgusting, by the way.”

Dimitri fights the urge to snort. _Disgusting._ In reality, he is doing much better, because his leads are all finally getting somewhere. Felix doesn’t know this, of course.

Felix sits on the chair, crossing his legs and arms. Defensive, yet staring Dimitri down like the boar he claims he is.

Dimitri feels it, too. Deep in his chest, nestled somewhere between his heart and his ribs. The strange hatred Felix feels for him, tinged with something else.

He sighs, looking around for somewhere to sit. The bed is off limits, and Felix has taken the only chair.

Felix raises an eyebrow at him. “Hurry up and get on with it.”

Dimitri sighs, again. “Blunt as always, Felix,” he says. He settles for standing, and takes out the package from his pocket. “Here. This is for you.”

Felix eyes it with disinterest. “Thanks,” he mutters, before pocketing it. “Now leave.”

Dimitri stops. A faint wave of panic rushes over him, because this is far too sudden. He came here with the intention of asking Felix what exactly he was doing, keeping the soulbond intact for this long, yet Felix is already shooing him from his room, eyes dark.

“Will you open it, at least?” Dimitri asks, a touch desperate.

“I’ll open it later. In my own time,” Felix retorts. “Now get out.”

“Felix…”

Felix narrows his eyes. Dimitri feels that flash of annoyance again, followed by a dawning realisation. “You’re looking for something else, aren’t you.”

“I—” Dimitri starts. Felix only gives him a look. He deflates, and chooses not to speak the lie at the tip of his tongue. “Well, yes. If I am to be perfectly honest.”

“Spit it out, then. Quickly.”

“Our soulbond,” Dimitri hurries. “ _The_ soulbond,” he amends, hastily, because he feels Felix’s anger as soon as it flares. “This will be a quick discussion, I promise. I only wished to know why you haven’t severed it yet.”

Felix stares at him. For once, he seems at a loss for words.

“Why would I sever it?” he asks, genuinely dumbfounded. He seems vulnerable, even, before it smooths out to his usual frown.

The worst part is that Dimitri feels it, too. Felix’s confusion. His genuine, raw confusion at being asked such a question.

… Dimitri doesn’t understand.

“It’s your eighteenth birthday today,” Dimitri says, slowly.

“Yes. I’m aware,” Felix grits out. He shakes Dimitri’s gift, pointedly.

“Then why…”

“When did I ever say I was going to sever it?” Felix demands, and then Dimitri is thinking back—

* * *

Dimitri is drinking a cup of water when he hears footsteps approach his tent.

It’s Felix, scowling as usual. Dimitri brightens when he sees him.

“Felix!” he smiles.

The minute he steps forward, however, Felix takes a step back. Dimitri furrows his brow.

“What’s wrong? Are you injured?” he asks.

The silence is heavy, stretching on for one long moment. Felix only scrutinises him, the set of his mouth hard.

Finally, he begins to move. His hands find the loop of his belt, before he unsheathes his dagger and, in one swift movement, tosses it onto the floor.

“Felix?” Dimitri says, thoroughly alarmed now. He bends down to pick the dagger up, but Felix makes a hissing sort of sound. When Dimitri looks up, he finds Felix glaring down at him.

Dimitri’s throat feels tighter. His neck prickles, uncomfortable, and his next words are hesitant. “Felix, have I done something to offend…?”

“I saw you out there,” Felix rasps. Dimitri freezes. 

“I’m not quite sure what you—”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Felix laughs. _Laughs,_ like he is on the tipping point of a very cruel and very damning realisation. “I saw you rip apart those men. With your bare hands, no less.”

Dimitri swallows. “Felix—”

“No. Stop,” Felix tells him. Smiles, even, as he begins to walk away. “Nothing you can say can excuse yourself.” 

“Felix, I swear—”

“Don’t bother. I don’t waste my time on monsters.” Felix fixes Dimitri with one last look. The expression he wears stays with Dimitri long beyond this day. “Stay away from me. I never want to see you ever again.”

He stalks out of the tent.

* * *

“After the Western Rebellion,” Dimitri says, slowly. “You told me you never wanted to see me again.”

Felix scoffs. “And that worked out exactly the way I wanted it to, didn’t it.”

Dimitri’s voice gets louder. More incredulous. “You threw your dagger _at my feet.”_

“Because I didn’t want it anymore?” Felix says. He looks indignant. “What are you getting at, boar?”

Dimitri is even more confused than he is, he is sure. He fights the urge to pace the length of the room. “I was under the impression that—Felix. You despise me. This is the one day you are able to sever our bond.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Why would you _not?”_

Felix is staring at him. The worst thing is, Dimitri feels it when the concern spikes in his gut. 

_Concern._ Dimitri can hardly believe it. Would not believe it, in fact, if he wasn’t directly feeling it from Felix himself. 

So Felix does still care for him, after all. The knowledge of that is enough to calm Dimitri down.

“So—” Dimitri starts again, voice quiet and slightly in awe, “when you told me that you never wanted to associate with me again—”

“I meant it,” Felix interrupts harshly. “I still do.”

Felix looks away, then. When it becomes clear that he isn’t willing to elaborate, Dimitri tentatively breaks the silence again. “But you—don’t want to sever the soulbond?”

Now, Felix takes on a peculiar expression. He scowls harder, and moves as if to get up from his chair. “What is _wrong_ with you? Why are you so fixated on severing it? Do _you_ want to?”

“No! No, not at all,” Dimitri says, feeling slightly giddy with this newfound knowledge. He can still scarcely believe it. “I simply assumed you no longer wished to be tied to me.”

“I’m _not_ tied to you,” Felix says, sharply.

“Of course not. I spoke out of turn.” A pause. “But…”

Felix shrugs. He can’t quite seem to meet Dimitri’s eye. _“Someone_ has to keep their eye on you,” he snaps. “Cage you when you finally show your true nature. Since no one else is willing to acknowledge how much of a beast you are, the task falls to me.”

Dimitri wonders how he can say that so nonchalantly, even when the ache in his heart still persists like an old wound.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. Felix is determinedly looking at everything but him. “Well, thank you, Felix. That was... enlightening.” 

“Are we done here?” Felix groans. _“Leave,_ already.”

“Certainly. And thank you, again.”

Felix is beginning to look murderous, so Dimitri quickly slips out. He has no idea what Felix thinks of his gift. He supposes he never got the chance to explain what the mittens meant to him, but…

Felix is not severing their soulbond. Dimitri is—he never could have expected this. 

The feeling of contentment rises and swells. Felix considers him worthy enough, at least, that he is not cutting this part out of his life. 

Dimitri smiles, for the first time in what seems to be a long time. He hopes, even if Felix does truly hate him, that he at least feels this warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'm at twitter @honeybakedtea 💖


End file.
